Chapter 21
Charlotte
He made me spend the night on the chair.
Since I’d woken up from my unconscious state, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Neither had he given me a chance to get up and nor had he untied me. I’d spent the whole night in the cold small apartment, with my limbs tied to the chair. He hadn’t given me food or a drop of water, and I was beginning to feel dizzy. I was worried about the health of the baby moving inside me, but I didn’t say a word.
I didn’t want to attract any more of his attention to me.
From the way the man had spoken about dad, I could sense his hatred. It was like he hated dad enough to kill him…to kill me if he wanted to.
As I watched him moving around the dingy apartment, opening up cans of beer and sitting with it in front of the TV…I couldn’t help but wonder if it was dad’s fault. Was this man really at fault here?
It was true that he was deranged. It was as his animal had taken over him. Why would a sane man kidnap a pregnant woman and tie her to a chair? He was troubled. But dad’s actions had pushed him over the edge.
As much as I wanted to be safe, and keep my baby safe; I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this man too. He was doing what he thought the best thing to do was…to teach my dad a lesson. If my father hadn’t taken away his home, none of this would have happened. It wasn’t just a random act of violence.
But I couldn’t just make him see reason. He was deranged. He refused to speak to me or think logically.
So, the only thing I could do was stay awake all night and hope against hope that he wouldn’t try and hurt me. Which I knew he was capable of doing. I could sense that he was capable of anything to get the justice he thought he deserved.
In the morning, a little before nine, he woke up and splashed some water on his face.
“C’mon, girl, we’re going to go meet your dad,” he said. I was thankful that he was at least taking me along with him to collect the money.
He untied my legs from the chair and pulled me up. Before he did that, he’d already blindfolded me. Then he led me out of the apartment, and I could feel the sun’s warmth on my face. I was thirsty and hungry and exhausted, but I was just glad to be out of the apartment now.
Roughly, he shoved me into the back of his van.
“Please…” I pleaded with him, while he zip-tied my hand to the door of the van. He had a cigarette burning in the corner of his mouth, and he didn’t say a word. Mechanically, he blindfolded me. I was in darkness again…I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was too scared to cry. I knew he hated my father enough to kill me if he was displeased.
“Please…” I tried again, and this time he banged the door shut and I knew I was alone.
I sensed the van start a few moments later. We were heading out.
My heart was thudding against my chest. At this point, all I wanted to do was stroke my belly, make sure my baby was okay.
When the van started, I skidded to the side, while my hands remained stuck to the door. The zip tie around my wrists chaffed my skin. I tried to sit close to the door so that it didn’t draw blood from the pull; but the van swerved again.
All I could see was darkness. I tried to focus on the turns and swerves the van was making, hoping I’d be able to remember the exact route the van was taking. For a few moments, that exercise helped calm my nerves…but not for long.
Very soon, I was panicking again. I was thinking about my baby and what was going to happen to us. Was I going to get out of this alive? What about Lincoln?
My only hope right now was him. I trusted him to find me, but what if this man had no intention of returning me to my family? What if he wasn’t even taking me to the park where he was supposed to meet dad? Anything was possible. How would Lincoln find me?
I tried to think about him. About the first time we met at the campsite. The way he’d made me feel just by touching the side of my neck. His tongue in my mouth. The comfort I’d felt in his arms.
Thinking about Lincoln made me calmer. I imagined a future with him. A future where he was accepted by my family. Where I could live with him, raise a child together…and still have a relationship with my parents. I was building castles in the air, I knew that. But it was better than crying over the circumstances I was in right now.
After what felt like hours, the van finally came to a stop. I skidded again, but managed to get myself in position. I was hoping he would open the door, but I heard the front driver’s door open and shut.
I tried to wriggle my hands out of the zip tie, but it was too tight. Every time I moved my hands, I felt like it would cut my skin. It was impossible to even get the blindfold off.
I couldn’t run, I couldn’t even move. As much as I tried to break free; the truth was that I wasn’t going anywhere.